


In Your Eyes

by novaband



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: Baby Nova, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 10:50:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19886380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novaband/pseuds/novaband
Summary: They say that eyes are the windows to the soul & Donny finally learns to believe it.( in which a veteran meets his daughter for the first time. )





	In Your Eyes

_**1949** _

If the sixteen hours he'd spent listening to Julia's cries in a neighboring room were anything to go by, Donny was certain that hospitals were the worst place he could ever end up in. The stark white hurt his eyes and the smell of antiseptic was beginning to make his nose sting, not to mention the fact that he hadn't been allowed to be inside of the room his wife presently occupied. Instead, he'd been forced to listen to her pain, hitting his hands against the wall with enough force to leave purple splotches on his knuckles in the desperation to get to her. The cries were silenced in thirty minutes, a nurse entering the room only to tell him that they'd put her under for the delivery.

It had been agonizing to watch the clock move. Despite Wayne's urgings and Jimmy's insistence that they'd be able to stay awake in shifts, he was unable to keep his eyes closed for long enough to find rest. Julia was the one who gave him solace. The nightmares that still plagued him were battled with her hands on his cheeks and her words lingering in the night air. Without her being there and with her status hanging in the air, his worry overpowered his exhaustion.

His fears were only eased by the doctor who entered the room. He had a soft, kind face, putting on a smile that was meant to ease the new father out of his war-developed instincts. Donny could give him credit for trying, but it was his words that gave him the ability to breathe again.

Flora Marie Novitski, 17.5 inches long and weighing only 6 pounds. And Julia, he was informed, was still asleep, but her pulse was evening out and her breathing was steady. That may have been the best news he'd received. They tried to keep him behind the glass, pointing his daughter out amongst a swell of other newborns, but he was _Private First Class Donald Novitski_ and he'd be _damned_ if he couldn't hold his daughter for the first time.

She was brought out in a little pink blanket, her entire body wrapped in the fleece. He held her just as June had taught him in the weeks leading up to this moment, his hand securing her head. To the doctors and the rest of the band, she appeared to be peacefully asleep in her father's arms, her tiny lips drawn into what could have been considered a smile that no doubt resembled Julia's.

Donny's breath nearly stopped when he watched Flora's eyes open. It was as though he was looking into a distorted reflection of his own, the same dark, wide quality in her tiny irises. She barely made much of a sound, but her eyes spoke volumes. They were eyes free of war or pain; not restless. Curiosity filled them as they darted around, lingering on the grey of his shirt and the puff of his hair. She watched his movements with a gentle innocence.

Flora was unaware of who he was. She hardly knew that he was her father, nonetheless that he had fought in a war. She didn't know that he had held firearms in the very hands that held her and had felt them shake through rain and mud. His daughter placed trust in him that he wouldn't let her fall without even knowing his story, but some part of him still wondered if she could tell just by looking at him. Could she see the war-torn turmoil in his own brown eyes? The tired circles that lingered underneath them and hinted towards his sleepless nights?

_No, that's ridiculous_ , Donny thought, giving himself a silent scolding. _She doesn't even know what the word war means_.

His thumb brushed against the smattering of bright, carrot-orange hair, an amused smile pulling at the corners of his lips. With any luck, this meant she would end up with Julia's hair, though he almost dreaded the thought of it darkening into an auburn when the bright color seemed meant for her to have. Her nose was small and delicate, much like her namesake, and her eyelashes were long enough to make most women jealous. In short, Flora was one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen, tying with her mother.

The thought of Julia made his attention turn towards the hospital room she currently occupied, wondering how many resemblances she would notice that he seemed to miss. She found the smaller details easier than he ever did, especially when it came to the underlined verses in every book of poetry that she happened to own.

In his moments alone with her that were slowly drawing to a close, he left a soft kiss against her forehead. If he had the mind to fool himself, he'd claim that her reflexive smile turned into a real one for a second, but he knew that it couldn't possibly be true.

"As long as your mama and I are around, nothing's gonna hurt you," Donny mumbled, keeping his words a secret between father and daughter alone. "I'll fight every other war just to keep you and her safe."

He was reluctant to let her go, but the nurses promised she'd be able to be in his arms as much as he liked in two weeks time. Fourteen days . . . and they'd truly be a family of three instead of two. He would have the life that he never saw himself having; a life of domesticity and seeing his own features replicated in tiny forms. Donny would watch Flora grow, see every accomplishment she happened to make, big or small. He wouldn't be like his father. He refused to walk out on her and leave her without his support. Her passions would be encouraged, not snapped like twigs under his feet. He wasn't his father.

For the meantime, Donny cherished the fact that he was finally allowed to see his wife. He brushed back her curls as she slept, holding tightly to her hand and waiting for the squeeze that would signify that she was finally awake. He'd tell her how beautiful their daughter was, how strong he believed her to be . . . and how he loved her enough to make his heart ache.

That would come later. Sitting beside the hospital bed with Julia's hand held in his, he allowed his head to rest against her chest and let his breathing slow to match hers. For the moment, he could rest peacefully, knowing that both of his girls would be safe and sound.

_**Flora**. Latin, meaning flower._

_**Marie**. French/Hebrew, disputed meaning; wished-for child, sea of bitterness, rebellion, or mistress of the sea._

**Author's Note:**

> The name 'Flora' comes from the original Papermill production, in which Donny's mother was still alive and named such. I believe if Donny were to have a daughter, both he and Julia would jump to the occasion of naming it after his mother to honor her. As per common practice of the 1940s & 1950s, men were not allowed in the delivery room of hospitals and were instead placed into 'stork rooms' beside the rooms their wives inhabited. The walls of these rooms were incredibly thin, meaning the husbands would be forced to listen to everything. This eventually changed by the 1960s, but it wasn't until the 1970s and 1980s that men were entirely allowed into the delivery room with their wives in every hospital in the United States. It was also common to render a woman unconscious during delivery, though this could naturally cause complications. Everything in this is as true to historical and musical events as possible.
> 
> Reposted from my Wattpad account of the same name.


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